New Beginnings
by disneyclassics101
Summary: Because everyone, even Kagome's seemingly always calm mother, has her dark days too. *Summary may change.*


**New Beginnings**

Written: September 5, 2013

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You wake up to the sound of your alarm and go through your morning rituals, which includes making breakfast. You wait an hour before starting upstairs. You reach the bedroom door just in time to hear another alarm go off inside yet you still open the door and help your son get out of bed. You turn to head down the hall before you stop.

You realize you don't have to. You haven't for a while.

You head downstairs and join Grandpa at the table. You finish your food before he does and stand to prepare a cup of tea. You smile when you hear your son enter the kitchen, talking excitedly about a dream that included his 'big brother'. You turn so that no one sees that the smile isn't a happy one at the moment. No need to bring down your family members' happy thoughts with your depressing ones.

Not long after, you turn on the faucet to wash the dishes. You notice that there are fewer dishes than there were the year before. Later when you are waving goodbye to your son heading to school, you remember a time where you watched a daughter around his age waving goodbye too.

You hold back some tears.

Knowing you have chores to do, you enter the house, passing a sleeping Grandpa on the way. You pass by the laundry room and pick up an empty basket. Once you collect all the dirty clothes, you pause by _that_ door. You stare for a while before you sigh and set down the basket. You turn the knob, hoping but knowing not, that your daughter was inside.

You stare in dismay at the slightly dust covered vacant room. You enter and sit on the bed covers that may as well rot for all the times it's been used the past year. You sniff a little and stand, almost slipping on something on the floor. You look to find a familiar red scarf under your foot. You pick it up and stare at the scratches covering the fabric.

You wonder for the millionth time why you gave your permission all those months ago.

You go back to doing your chores and continue until around midday when you look out the window and notice how beautiful the sky is that day. You grin and leave for the storage room where you have your gardening tools set up. Setting a straw hat on your head, you head over to your flower bed and kneel on the ground. You hum as you rake the dirt and pull out the weeds. You begin to dig to insert a flower seed when you notice a certain glow coming from the dirt.

Your curiosity has you digging deeper with the glow becoming more apparent. You suck in a breath when the glow becomes pink and recognize it as your daughter's spiritual power. You hear a clink when your small shovel hits something hard. Reaching in, you grab hold of the object as the pink lights seeps into it and disappears. You observe the wooden box and briefly wonder how it hadn't rotted yet.

You brush your hand over the lock and jump slightly when it opens without restraint. Your hand shakes slightly as you lift the lid. Your shoulders begin to shake and a sob leaves your mouth once you realize what's inside. A familiar middle school uniform is inside, unwashed and folded; looking exactly like the day her daughter must have buried it.

You run a hand over the cloth and feel something firm underneath. Lifting the uniform, you gaze with tears forming in your eyes at the necklace of purple beads and the single sheet of ancient paper in the center. You don't notice the presence of people coming up behind you. You only have eyes for the black oil marking the paper. You break down into sobs at the word written in your daughter's handwriting: _"Goodbye"._

You startle when a hand comes down onto your shoulder and the feeling of five pricks on your skin informs you that the person is not Grandpa. You wipe at the tear streaks on your cheeks before turning around but it is for not for when you turn you break down into more tears. You blink and try to focus on the form of two teenagers, one male and one female. They look strangely like a certain daughter and her hanyou.

"Grandma?" the female teen asked softly. "Grandma, I'm so sorry."

You cover your mouth in a vain attempt at quieting your cries and you vaguely notice that the female sits next to you before you are wrapped up in arms. Even while crying you still hear the female telling her panicking brother to be quiet and to come help her.

Later after dinner, in which you learned about your daughter and son-in-law's history and invited your grandchildren to stay for the night, you sit in front of your closet with the ancient box. You breathe a trembling sigh and sniff once again before setting the precious cargo next to your late husband's belongings.

You then lie down on your bed and stare at the ceiling. Your mind races with memories of the past year and of dinnertime. You smile, remembering how the two modern day hanyou act alike to their parents. You turn and shut your eyes, waiting until the sound of clinking pots wakes you to find ramen spread all over your kitchen.

You feel your lips move into a true, happy smile.


End file.
